Chapter 8 - THE GALLERY THEY STOLE
Clara returned to Arthur's penthouse.
She was pale.
Exhausted.
Angry.
Arthur listened as she explained the call.
Then he asked:
“Who purchased your gallery?”
Clara looked at him.
“Hawthorne Cultural Holdings.”
Arthur frowned.
“Who owns it?”
She shook her head.
“A private investment group.”
Arthur turned toward Marcus.
“Find out.”
Within an hour, Marcus returned.
His expression was grim.
“Hawthorne Cultural Holdings is controlled through several holding companies.”
Arthur's jaw tightened.
“And the final owner?”
Marcus looked toward Clara.
“Richard Sterling.”
The room fell silent.
Clara stared.
Richard had purchased her gallery.
Taken her mother's records.
Destroyed her livelihood.
And now he was demanding a ledger he already controlled.
Why?
Arthur looked at her.
“I'm sorry.”
Clara laughed bitterly.
“For what?”
“For not seeing what my son was doing.”
She looked away.
Arthur continued.
“I built a family empire. I thought that meant I had protected my children.”
His voice broke.
“But I taught one of them that winning mattered more than anything.”
Clara said nothing.
He looked at her.
“And now Leo is paying for it.”
Clara examined the buyout documents again.
One clause stood out.
The buyer had acquired all physical assets.
But not intellectual property rights.
Her mother's restoration designs remained legally separate.
Clara stared.
Then smiled faintly.
“Richard made a mistake.”
Arthur looked up.
“What?”
“He bought the gallery.”
She tapped the contract.
“But he didn't buy my mother's designs.”
Arthur frowned.
“And?”
Clara looked at him.
“The music box mechanism is hers.”
She swallowed.
“And so is the Meridian Clock's replacement cylinder.”
They contacted Elena Brooks, an attorney specializing in cultural property.
Elena reviewed the documents.
Then nodded.
“Clara retains certain rights to the original designs and technical records.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“Can we recover the ledger?”
Elena hesitated.
“If the ledger contains evidence relevant to criminal conduct, investigators can seek it through legal process.”
Clara nodded.
“Then that's what we do.”
That evening, investigators obtained the gallery records.
They found the ledger inside a locked storage room.
But several pages had been removed.
Clara studied the remaining entries.
Then stopped.
Her mother had written a series of numbers beside the Meridian Clock.
10:00.
12:15.
3:30.
6:45.
9:00.
Clara frowned.
These weren't inventory numbers.
They were times.
And beneath them was a note.
WHEN THE FIVE CHIMES ALIGN, THE SECOND HAND REVEALS THE TRUTH.
Clara stared.
The Meridian Clock.
The music box.
The clock tower.
All connected.
She looked at Arthur.
“I know what Richard is looking for.”
Arthur leaned forward.
“What?”
May you like
Clara swallowed.
“A hidden recording.”
